


BÊTE NOIR

by Silver Lioness (Rumpels_Darker_Dearie)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Forced Marriage, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 09:50:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14446683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpels_Darker_Dearie/pseuds/Silver%20Lioness
Summary: An Alternative UniverseA one-shot on a what if...What if Lord Voldemort arrived whilst the TRIO were at Malfoy Manor?Hermione is brought out of the cell in a room of braying Death Eaters - and a predatory Dark Lord.





	BÊTE NOIR

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written over three years ago it is unbeta'd and raw.
> 
> I will take full responsibility for any kind of error you can think of.
> 
> However, that being said, I will go through this at some point to fill in the plot holes, correct errors, maybe even change the ending.

**BÊTE NOIR**

That backfired! Why did she have to do it? What possessed her to do something so ridiculously idiotic. Professor Snape is right, Hermione sighed, I am a dunderheaded moron. Hanging her head in shame Hermione sagged her shoulders as she was being led to Godric knows where – certainly not back to the dungeons where she had resided previously. Fear could make the senseless one wise: was that right? Hermione did not know and she no longer cared. All she desired, right this very moment, was to be able to elbow her two female guards in the ribs and send them stumbling down the very stairs she was marched up. Walking along long halls. Keeping her head down. Her mouth shut. With a sharp dig of nails Hermione winced a little. _For a group of people who hate touching my kind_ , she thought sourly, _they certainly do it a lot_.

Hiss of fabric. A sharp jerk signified that they had stopped. Hermione found they had reached to wherever it was they were supposed to go. The insane giggling of one of her guards and the silence of the other were no indications as to where she may be. Or what was going to happen to her. Aside from not being allowed to harm her, which she sensed Bat Woman wanted to do, for making the Dark Lord lick his lips with something akin to lust. Impossible! Even lust requires the acknowledgement of love. The other, Ice Queen, calmly whispered _Alohomora_ and the door swung open. Harshly, she was shoved in the room. Knees buckled beneath her. Laying her palms flat to break her fall. Scraping her knees on the floor. Hermione's hair hung low and bushier than ever over her cheeks. Tips brushing against the hard wood floor. Resembling nothing more than an animal. _I have teeth and claws_ , she growled. _I will use them_!

The shuffling of footsteps outside indicated that her Guards were pacing the corridor outside. Probably wondering, themselves, what possessed their victim to do that. Although one was most assuredly amused by the entire affair. Not being able to stop laughing. Her other sentinel was rather less easy to read the actions of, not having said a word or betrayed even the hint of a sneer. Ice Queen suited her. Suddenly she heard the door creak open.

Like a rabbit facing the hunter with no where to go, Hermione scurried to the other end of the room shrinking as far back into the wall as she possibly could without becoming wallpaper and gazed wildly at the impassive woman who had re-entered.

“Now,” she sighed. “That was a very silly thing to do, wasn't it?” Hermione did not trust herself to say anything, “I was led to believe you were intelligent and somewhat logical,” worrying her lower lip Hermione could not even dare herself to breathe. “That was what Severus told me,” Ice Queen sashayed up to her. Hermione's mouth went very dry. Professor Snape complimented her to Draco's mother? “I was also told you talk, you certainly did a lot of it down there.” Lowering her eyes and trying cover her face within the ever thickening bush that she had to call hair. “I suppose I have to show that I am not going to hurt you, Miss... Granger?” Frightened, Hermione nodded still not trusting herself to speak. “ _Silentium Cabiculum._ ”

“S-s-s-sound proofing?” Hermione finally stuttered, the Ice Queen inclined her head, “I am not g-g-g-giving any information to your Lord and Master,” she said. “Neither am I...”

The guard rolled her eyes. Elegantly, she glided across the floor and opened a wardrobe. “Serviceable,” she said interrupting her charges defiance. Hermione was surprised to find the woman walking up to her. Compassionately, she found herself bundled in a silk green robe miles too big for her: “My husbands,” the woman smirked. “Cuts quite the dashing figure in it when you look in the right light.”

“If he was in the Light I'd...” Hermione stopped herself blushing furiously and lowered her eyes.

“Go on,” the woman could almost bring a smirk into sentient being. “If he were on your side, what _would_ you think of him?”

“Does it matter?”

Ice Queen laughed a little dark, almost, self-mocking tone: “We are women, are we not?”

“I'm not,” Hermione sighed trying not to breathe in the scent of her enemy. Now the Bête Noir had to fight back. “I am a filthy _mudblood_ with bushy hair and no sense to keep my mouth shut when I should.”

Surprisingly, Ice Queen tenderly placed a hand on her cheeks, using her fingers to brush Hermione's hair out of her face. “No,” she sighed, “I won't have that. You were trying to prove a point – though you should have gone about it differently – what possessed you?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

“Miss Granger,” the woman sighed. “Tell me, what would _you_ think if my husband was in the Light?” Mumbling Hermione wrapped the cloak further about herself drawing comfort from it. Stranger things had happened: “This room is soundproofed, Miss ...” the woman rolled her eyes and sighed, “I do not want to keep calling you Miss Granger,” she said petulantly, dropping her frosty demeanour completely. “Come,” Narcissa gently raised Hermione by her wrists and led her to the bed, then sat next to her. Fingers still coiling around in her birds nest as if she and this young woman were on equal footing. Hermione knew otherwise. “My name is Narcissa,” Hermione felt the woman's fingertips graze against her cheeks and flushed: “what is yours?”

“Hermione.”

“There,” Narcissa smiled. “We do have something in common,” she laid her fingers against Hermione's neck. “Now, come on. Not one word will pass out of this room.”

“What about...”

“I can handle my sister,” Narcissa said confidently, “am I going to have to bribe the answer out of you?”

Sighing, Hermione had already humiliated herself, what would the harm be in going further. What would one more confession be to rip out the last shred of decency she had? “If he was in the Light,” Hermione knew this was a moot point, “I would truly envy you, Mrs...”

“Narcissa,” the woman's hand was now on Hermione's shoulder and squeezed gently.

“Where am I?”

“My husband's private chambers.”

Oh this was wonderful. “I know you hate muggle culture,” Hermione sighed, “but there are things called Movies.”

“I am not entirely ignorant,” Narcissa sighed, “if you must know I once went to those strange things... CHINMA?”

“Cinema,” Hermione sighed, not sure why it was important to correct the older woman who could murder her with a swish of her wand. “You went to the...”

“What was it again... some silly thing,” Narcissa waved her hand dismissively, “anyhow, I understand more than you think.”

“I was taken, by my dad, to see a film called Labyrinth.”

“Interesting title.”

“It was about a Goblin King who stole babies from EARTH and turned them into Goblins. This girl; Sarah Williams, was the only person to destroy him.”

“She killed him in the end?”

“In a sense, I have not watched it for a long time,” Hermione dared to risk looking into Narcissa's eyes. The same eyes of Draco. Nice to see he was not entirely his father. “I wished to be Sarah,” lowering her eyes, “to be whisked away to some magical kingdom and bring down evil.”

“This King was evil?”

“Not really no,” Hermione was struggling, “but that is not the point,” she clasped her hands in her lap. “The reason the King was so mean to Sarah was because he was actually in love with her and was lonely.”

“What has this to do with my husband?”

“The moment he walked into Flourish and Blotts all I could think inside my treacherous head was: Merlin, King Jareth!”

A silvery peal of laughter erupted from Narcissa's mouth as she looked at the profile of the young woman next to her. “Jareth?”

“That was his name.”

“Pray, tell me,” Narcissa inched closer. What was the woman doing? Trying to pimp her out to her husband? “Do you fantasise?”

Blushing Hermione's silence answered her question. “Why do you ask?” she counted back with a question of her own.

Regarding her for a moment, Narcissa sighed again: “Because your little stunt downstairs would have made most of the men down there wishing the Dark Lord to pull a cold shower spell on their nether regions.”

“Why?” Hermione was puzzled. “I'm nothing.”

“I thought you had a boyfriend?”

“Not yet.”

“Virgin?”

“I had a fumble with a muggle before my sixth year.”

“Oh dear,” Narcissa sighed. “You do realise what the Dark Lord will be doing now, don't you?”

“No.”

“Delegating someone to come up here and – well,” suddenly Narcissa grabbed her and hugged Hermione tightly to her body. _This whole no touching thing is going very well_ , Hermione thought sarcastically. Shuddering out a dignified sob, Narcissa turned Hermione fully around and made her look in her eyes: “I am a parent, Hermione, so do not look so shocked.”

“I did not realise I was looking shocked.”

“How would your parents feel if they knew what you did down there?”

“Probably ground me from the Wizarding World forever and force me to become an Oxbridge Lawyer like they secretly wanted.”

“Oxbridge?”

“Universities of Oxford and Cambridge. People who go to both are called Oxbridge.”

“Universities?”

“Places of further learning,” Hermione said. “In truth if the Wizarding world had schools for magical children that catered for ages 5-11 that way there would be a basic setting right there.”

“You mean sort of little schools around the country? That would be inordinately expensive.”

“Yes, but less confusing and more time for adaptation on both ends of the Purity Spectrum.”

“You are not stupid, are you?” Narcissa seemed to be appraising her. For what, though, Hermione still could not fathom. “It is a shame that we raised our son the way we did.”

Reddening deeper Hermione felt as if the scent on Lucius cloak was beginning to seep its way into her blood. “I would love to advocate it but, you are right, there is nothing to be gained for the Ministry to have several Jr Hogwarts scattered about over the country.”

“Lovely scent is it not?” Narcissa purred as she watched the younger Witch bury her nose in the silken cloak, “you are quite enthralled."

“I still do not believe that I made some of the darkest Wizards desire a cold shower.”

“There is a perverted Werewolf in that room,” sighed Narcissa stroking more of Hermione's face, “and a few vampires,” here Narcissa exposed Hermione's neck completely, lazily tracing the outlines of her throat. “Not to mention my brother-in-law,” with that Hermione darted her eyes to the door. “Do you really think those two married for love?” the sneer was so alive, Hermione shivered. “Bellatrix thinks the Dark Lord will promote her as his Bride, as for Rodolphus,” shuddering next to Hermione, Narcissa turned the wild haired brunettes chin up, “I actually felt a spit of drool land on my neck – I was disgusted for you to think of his paws all over your body!”

“You mentioned vampires?”

“Not I,” Narcissa flashed a row of perfectly human teeth. Still, Hermione felt it prudent to ask Narcissa to stop touching her neck.

“Why are you talking to me like our mothers were best friends?”

“Because, I _am_ a parent,” Narcissa sighed again. “If you were my daughter and I found out you had pulled the stunt you did then I would have grounded you from Hogsmeades visits for an entire year.”

“I believe you.”

“Also,” Narcissa sighed. “Severus likes you!”

“Snape?” Hermione hissed bunching her hands into the green silk robe. “He hates me. Completely hates me.”

“Was it true you were the one who cracked his little poem?”

“Y-yes.”

“That you stole from his cupboards?”

“Y-yes.”

Gods, she was not going there now, was she? “That you foiled his attempt to have my degenerate cousin re-arrested?”

“S-sort of.”

“Both are fairly Slytherin like,” Narcissa's eyes sparkled. “Brewing an illegal potion. Sneaking into a rival house's common room. Knocking out Crabbe and Goyle Jr's, though that should not have been too hard.”

“Cissy!” a childish voice demanded the other side of the door. “Cissy, don't keep the lying bitchy mudblood all to yourself – let someone else have some fun with her!”

Immediately, Hermione scurried to the headboard scared. Could Narcissa be about to torture her after all and was playing nice? Narcissa was confident her spell had worked so she replied: “She's too feisty, Bella,” she sighed, “come back later when I've broken her a little. I need to avenge myself on the time she slapped my son's face with a book!”

“CISSY, LET ME IN THIS INSTANT, I WANT TO PLAY!”

Putting an elegant finger to Hermione's lips Narcissa smirked. Hermione still distrusted the Slytheriness. A silky _Alohomora_ later and a scurry out of the door made Hermione relax a little. Though not too much as she remembered where she was. Whose cloak that was wrapped around her body and the mad bitch Le Strange. Moments later Narcissa re-entered and locked the door again. “Now,” she said, “where were we?”

“Recounting my crimes against Professor Snape.”

“You are refreshing, Hermione,” Narcissa clapped her hands with glee. “I have not smiled for a long time. You almost _sounded_ like Severus then.”

“What is going to happen to me?”

“Nothing if I have anything to do with it,” Narcissa snarled, rushing back to protect Hermione, “I will not let you be tortured any more!” with that she indicated the knife marks in the young woman's flesh: “she was so cowardly when she did this to you, Hermione.”

“Not sure your husband would approve.”

“You are wrong about him,” Narcissa said her eyes sparkled with warmth and genuine love, Hermione saw the look all to often in her mother's eyes. “In fact when you were performing down there Lucius was squeezing my hand. I looked up,” here Narcissa took hold of Hermione's leg, “the expression in his eyes all to abundantly clear,” following through on Hermione's look of confusion. “I know Lucius, he wanted you to stop to re-think, with an incline of his head he was silently conveying that I should try and stop you.”

“Mr Malfoy tried to protect my dignity?”

“We are gentry,” Narcissa said. “My husband is a gentleman – there are so many hidden depths to him – my marriage to him would have to last a thousand years, to comprehend some of his more innocent traits.” Gulping down her retort, Hermione wondered what was so innocent about Lucius Malfoy. “Makes being married worth it,” she winked, “when you are married to an enigma.” With this she sat back down on the bed and gazed at the young frightened woman. “He is a father,” Oh back to the: _We are parents card_. It was only now Hermione noticed that the elegant Witch before her had her hand on her knee.

“For someone who told his son not to touch Muggleborns you are not providing the best example,” Hermione mumbled. Her knee rocked suggesting that Narcissa was silently laughing. “What is so funny?”

“If I wanted my son to be a shining example for Purity I would have sent him to Durmstrang,” Narcissa said. “I insisted he went to Hogwarts. Somehow, I thought he would think for himself there.”

So that was why she did not wish Draco to go, yet again, another of his boasts that turned out to be true. Now she felt a little more relaxed that the woman was not going to hex her into oblivion for admitting that she had a brief crush on her husband Hermione decided to change tack.

“When you say delegating someone to come up here, d-do you mean...?”

Worrying her lower lip, Narcissa sighed. That was all Hermione needed to know. What sick perverted thing does this? “I think I will have to move the suggestion for my husband to be the one to... “ horrified Hermione was about to protest but Narcissa sighed, “you could not wish for a better lover. He can be gentle and quite unselfish in the bedroom,” please no! It was embarrassing when your parents talked about their sex life. She did not need to see an image of these two lissom beings entwined in a lovers war amongst the bedsheets. “You would please him greatly.”

“I am not a slut,” she found her voice. “How can you think of allowing your husband to...” blanching at the prospect, “I cannot, you love him, I couldn't!”

Narcissa smiled a little: “Whom would you rather?” she asked coldly. “Greyback, and be a social outcast for the rest of your life?” vehemently, Hermione shook her head, “Rodolphus, you may end up not being able to walk, again!” visibly Narcissa noted Hermione's shudder, “Or maybe Crabbe or Goyle, Sr?”

“I cannot believe I am going to say this but what about your son?”

“After his 'failure' the Dark Lord could easily see that as rewarding my son with a tasty treat.”

“S-Snape is here, isn't here?”

“No, he is at Hogwarts.”

Rolling her eyes in unison with her head Hermione hit her head against the board. “Dunderhead!” she said it so viciously it almost sounded like swearing.

“In another life you and Severus would be a match made in heaven.”

“Or a Dante-esque descent into insanity,” Hermione gazed at Narcissa. “Won't the Dark Lord see me as a tasty treat for Lucius too?”

“No, he would think Lucius would rather throttle you than seed you.”

“Can I have a drink?”

“No, this is going to have be done with a clear head.”

“I meant water,” suddenly a tall glass of cold water hovered in front of her and Hermione drank greedily. Ignoring the brain freeze. “How can you allow your husband to be with another?”

Here pain flitted across Narcissa's eyes: “We do what the Dark Lord requires of us. Secrets are often conveyed between the bedposts.”

“Sounds awful,” Hermione's voice held so much compassion that Narcissa actually burst into tears. Forgetting who she was, Hermione hurried up and rushed to the older woman. The cloak shed from Hermione's golden frame as she hugged Narcissa completely, now almost comfortable in her nakedness. “ _You_ are better than this, Narcissa. _Everyone_ is better than this.”

Through tear filled haze Narcissa hugged Hermione back but what she said shocked her: “Andromeda, you are so right. You were always right. I'm sorry. So so so sorry!”

“My name is Hermione,” Hermione said, a little confused. Was this what Narcissa was doing this for? Her sister? Her niece? What?

“Sorry, yes, of course you are,” Narcissa pushed some hair behind Hermione's ear, “but you were so much like her that I thought... sorry.”

“All right,” Hermione sighed, closing her eyes and counting to ten in German, “I will lie back and think of England, if necessary. You're bruised inside and out. I know how that feels. Go back to the Dark Lord, nominate your husband and I will try, that is all I can promise. Draco is in my year, after all, and what he is going through – well, I just can't let him go through _more_ of it.”

Eyes shining with tears Narcissa smiled – truthfully and utterly smiled. She was beautiful in that moment. Absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. “I was such an idiot,” Narcissa bit her tongue to punish herself. “Arrogant, self-satisfied bitch.”

“Bitter self-pity is not a Malfoy trait, so I thought?” Hermione squeezed Narcissa's hand. “You are not a bitch,” she sighed and kissed the woman's cheek: “nor are you arrogant.”

“It's become one,” Narcissa sighed, “I am both those things.”

“You _were_ both those things,” Hermione hugged Narcissa. “Now you are wonderful and have never been more beautiful.”

Narcissa hugged Hermione back and was about to reply when their bonding was interrupted once again by the loud screech of the Bat Woman. “CISSY, I WANT TO PLAY: PIN THE CURSE ON THE MUDBLOOD. LET. ME. IN!”

“I tell you something,” Narcissa narrowed her eyes at the door, “if Harry Potter doesn't hex her into oblivion I sure as hell will!”

Chuckling, Hermione said sarcastically, but seriously: “I think you have to get in line.”

“ _I'm_ her sister _I_ should be in the front of the queue!”

With that Narcissa walked out of the room. Now Hermione had time to look around. Dark wooded furniture. A fire blazing in the feature wall with a huge painting that she could lie on her back on and wrap the canvass around her body with still some to spare, hung above the mantle piece. Sparsely decorated, she noticed, though Lucius Malfoy would not be one for knick knacks and curios. The bed and the wardrobe were all that seemed to suffice for him.

Outside the night itself was actually quite beautiful. Walking to the mullioned windows Hermione rubbed a little dirt off one of the panels and gazed out into the grounds. Ruminating on what she had done that got her into this mess. Into potentially having to sleep with Lucius Malfoy. Or, she shuddered, being _Crucio'd_ to within an inch of her life by batty Bellatrix. Why was Snape not here? That would still have made her feel a little sick, considering he was her teacher only less than a year before, but he was not an absolute stranger either. Her crush on him had not abated. She still believed he was on the side of the Light. If Harry was not so blurred by anger, he should have noticed Dumbledore was already dying.

Closing her eyes the entire scene flashed before her like a horribly made porn movie. Not that she had ever seen one, horribly made or not, and retched with the sour memory.

♣♦♣♦♣♦♣♦

Harry tried to fight the Guards off Hermione. Ron was knocked backwards for his trouble but Hermione was taken anyway by masked individuals. Whatever they were going to do to her it was not going to be pleasant. The way they sniggered behind their masks made them sound like 13 year old muggle boys who had sneaked into the girls changing rooms. Not grown men who had the ability to do incredibly painful things to her.

They had shoved her into a huge sitting room where she heard Bat Woman's shriek cackling – competing against the flames in the hearth where she felt almost every lick on her face. “BOW BEFORE OUR LORD!” Bat Woman laughed. “MUDBLOOD!”

“Bellatrix,” the cold sibilant hiss spoke so hypnotically Hermione could almost understand why people were seduced by him, thankfully Hermione had no desires in her heart for HIM to tempt her with, “please remain somewhat quiet throughout this exchange.”

Cowed the freak glared at Hermione with dark, glittering eyes. Gazing at her with such intense hatred, Hermione winced from the invisible strand of pain Bella's eyes sent her way. Without a hint of triumph Hermione watched as Bellatrix slunk into the shadows. Still her eyes seemed to bore into Hermione's prostrate form.

Preferring to remain silent, Hermione just satisfied herself with a glare around the room, with her hair hanging around her small face. Brushing against the floor. _Just what my hair should be_ , she thought grimly, _a mop_! Jaw set firm. Flinty eyed. Deciding not to be killed on her hands and knees Hermione helped herself up and dusted herself down. Fixing her gaze finally on Draco who had the decency to look – look what? Scared? There was nothing of the arrogance that had marked his attitude the first few years of school. The young man was avoiding her eyes then she slowly travelled her eyes to the woman next to him. His mother. She seemed to match her gaze. Was Hermione mistaken? Did she see something akin to anxiousness? Then the man beside her.

It took all her ounce of energy to keep her mouth from gaping in shock. So different from the man that had insulted her, her parents and made her feel insignificant with a leer. Puffy eyed. Scruff decorated his face. The man looked like he had not slept for months. Even his long, well tendered locks, were dishevelled. Almost, Hermione felt pity for him, what had it been like for him? Then again he did make the decision to wind up like this. Did the Wizard truly think he was immune to the Dark Lord's temper tantrums?

“Miss Granger?” the sibilance almost clouded her, made her feel good. That was just her title and last name. “I truly bear you no ill will,” liar. “In fact, I offer opportunities for bright, young, capable and _resourceful_ witches like yourself.” What does he want, a medal?

What happened to blood purity? Did he really think that she was going to give up her loyalty to Harry Potter just like that? If ever at all? “Answer him, muddy bloody mudblood!”

“Bellatrix!” the voice hissed dangerously.

Suddenly, Hermione found her chin being tilted by a cold, translucent, finger and forced to look into blood ruby red eyes. Chills shuddered down to her toes: “I was very fortunate in watching you in your first year,” he smiled, “the way you destroyed a mountain troll, such delicious talent in one so precociously young,” the voice slithered closer towards her. “You are also good at solving logical puzzles and can set traps.”

Stay quiet; let him speak think of other things. Remember what Harry taught you. “What is your first name, Miss Granger?” do not snap in reply. “Ah, yes, I remember, Hermione.” Water, I need water! “From the Greek God Hermes. Did you know he loved thieves?” Yes, she knew a lot about her name. “There is something Grecian about you. You would enjoy the sun-kissed shores; the magical history surrounding the country.”

She would but that was not the point. In freedom, yes, but not under this Things thumb which she almost was in a literal sense: “Draco,” the voice said.

Hermione looked at her former enemy. “Y-yes, my L-lord,” Draco stuttered.

“You're acquaintanceship of our lovely guest far exceeds my own,” Draco took a moment to glance into her eyes. Was he frightened for her? No, of course he wasn't. Self-Preservation Society. For heaven's sake, Draco, Hermione sighed. Do not fail me now. Be your normal snivelling self. Please. Do not answer in any way positive.

“Y-yes, m-my L-lord.”

“Miss Granger's abilities,” the voice threatened her to speak aloud soon. She really wanted to spare Draco any kind of humiliation. Normally, she could speak up, why could she not do so now? _If this was Harry you would have said something by now_ : a nasty thought said. _You cannot see him humiliated, Hermione. Not in front of his pals. If he hesitates, speak_! “Would you consider her a worthy exception?”

Exception? Exception to what? “S-she i-is q-quite c-clever,” Draco stuttered. WHAT? Draco, what are you doing? Call me a filthy mudblood. You have never minded before. “B-but h-her h-heritage w-would b-be a-a p-problem, m-my L-lord!”

Since when was the Slytherin Prince so polite about my heritage? Bellatrix is your aunt for crying out loud, follow her example. Hate me for crying out loud, it's what your best at: “Exceptions, Draco, means those that go _against_ the grain,” here he turned to Draco's father, “Lucius, what is your opinion?”

That was unexpected but she felt more confident in Lucius to disparage her in front of everyone: “She has the _potential_ to be an extremely powerful Witch, my Lord,” Lucius said. “Provided she is under the patronage of an _equally_ intelligent Wizard.”

Gods, Hermione thought, was this a conspiracy? “The potential,” the eyes now joined the voice in taking over her mind. “Is what I am interested in,” Hermione looked again at Draco who seemed to shuffle his feet. Hiding as much as he could from Hermione's gaze. “You must realise I _can_ be flexible, Hermione,” now the eyes and voice were joined by a pale white alien looking face that wanted to make her puke. “If there is someone with such abilities to learn fast who understands loyalty and does not accept failure then I extend an offer to you...”

“I will never betray Harry!” Hermione's voice was so quiet almost matching his for sibilance. Yet the defiance carried the tone throughout the entire group.

“I am sure there are ties hard to break between you and Potter,” the voice sneered, “but look at what I can offer you, Hermione. I offer you the chance to become one of us, I offer you to be a part of our _elite_ crowd.”

Elite crowd? Scared out of their wits more like. What had happened to Lucius? Most were glaring with glee over the idea of this young, nubile and quite attractive Witch in their ranks. If the Dark Lord could overlook her dubious heritage, then so could they. Some men were licking their lips for the chance of 'initiating' her into the Rites of Purity. _Do not think about it_ , Hermione's eyes narrowed in scorn at them. Deciding, rather wisely, on focussing her eyes on the Malfoy clan.

“My parents are muggles,” Hermione glowered. “Big ones.”

“I understand that your ties are also divided in that respect to, Hermione.”

Narrowing her eyes Hermione folded her arms across her chest and chewed her lower lip. How dare you use my name! It is the only dignity I have left!

“THE MUDBLOOD SHOULD COUNT HERSELF LUCKY! MUDBLOODY LUCKY!”

“Bellatrix, I will not tolerate any more interruptions from you!” The Dark Lord said in a loud voice that struck terror into everyone's heart, “Now, if you cannot afford me and this young lady some respect I suggest you walk out.”

For the only time in her life she mentally thanked Bat Woman for being the only Death Eater to try and veer the Dark Lord away from the horrible proposition he was making her consider. Visibly cowed, Bellatrix sulked petulantly, and glared daggers at Hermione. “When did you cast your first spell, before the letter?” the voice turned back to Hermione.

This did require an answer: “I was two,” she said, “within my memory.”

“Two, and what happened?”

Lowering her eyes to the floor Hermione bit the plump part of her lower lip again. “A girl pulled my hair,” she mumbled, “at nursery.”

“Those horrible places working muggle parents put their children in when they cannot be bothered to look after them?” the voice semi-explained, semi-asked. Don't you dare act as if you care, “what did you do?”

“I turned the girls hair bright green and, apparently, burned her hand to blisters – somehow, also put a boil on her nose.”

“Green, why green?”

“At the time it was my favourite colour!” she felt her voice rise, then checked herself. “I also wanted her to look awful.”

“I thought two year old girls liked pink?”

“I did not.”

“What was your punishment?” Punishment. Hermione winced as she remembered her punishment. Her parents had cancelled her trip to Disney Land. “Hermione, did you receive penance?”

“Y-yes... Sir!” she had to show some form of respect.

“Sir,” the voice hissed, “I am a _Lord_.”

Self-titled. “I would rather stick to Sir,” Hermione said as calmly as she could. Keeping her voice low and reverential. “I afford you respect for being a Great Wizard, Sir,” here she offered a little curtsy.

“I am significantly gratified by your acknowledgement, Hermione,” the finger was now back on her jaw. “I did not even have to force you to do so,” he had inched closer, Hermione could feel the presence. “I fear your talents are wasted on that ragtag group,” the whisper that made her heart fall to the pit of her stomach. “Beautiful, Hermione, your deference pleases me greatly,” then the whisper dropped to an ice cold smile of congeniality: “Let us hope by the dawns rising, you will call me, _**my**_ _Lord_ ,” gulping Hermione felt butterflies chase moths in her insides. “What was the judgement meted out by your misguided parents?”

“My parents cancelled a holiday I really wanted to go on.”

“Tut-tut,” the voice turned to the crowd of Death Eaters behind him, “how cruel is that, Lucius. You have never denied your child, have you.”

That was not fair, Hermione seethed, they did not understand. They thought I poured a tub of paint on the girls hair then put her hand on a hot light bulb. “No, my Lord.”

“Would you have denied Hermione if she were your daughter?”

“Most certainly not.”

No, stop it! Lucius, please remember you're a Malfoy. You're a Pureblood. You're pandering to a half-blood. Think of what you are saying. What he is making you do! “How would you have treated Hermione if she _was_ your daughter?”

“Like a Princess, my Lord.”

“Can you imagine what she would look like under Slytherin's banner?”

“A most appealing image, my Lord.”

“Why did you not have more children, Lucius?”

Where was this heading? A conversation with the Dark Lord twisted itself in knots. “Because we had our son.”

“Son, yes. Would you not have liked a daughter. A woman to marry off into another pure blood dynasty. Another son in case something happened to _that_ one.”

That one? Hermione was not going to stand for that: “There is nothing wrong with Draco!” she said the words before she had time to consider her tone.

“You have your champion, Draco,” the voice sneered. “Why would you defend your enemy, Hermione, one who would never defend you?”

That was true but Hermione could see a difference in him. He was cowed. Frightened. Delicate. All Hermione's heart went out to him as she realised whatever torture she and her friends suffered he was probably going through hell and back! Too kind for your own good, Granger.

“Maybe not,” Hermione answered. “But he _is_ a human being. We went to school together. I do not care what he thinks about me. I will not allow anyone to put someone down – or be called THAT – Draco is also clever, cunning and has his own brand of loyalty, especially to his family,” here her voice broke with trying not to cry. Did she spy a look switch between Narcissa and Lucius? “I _hate_ him, that is true, but he still has _worth_! I certainly do not wish to see him writhing in agony or dead.”

Draco looked at Hermione with something in his eyes. Something of hope? Hermione was trying to get him to revert back to Draco of old. She was certain he was going to hate hearing her defend him. Pride would surely get the better of him as he remembered who was passionately advocating his cause. Snape was disgusted when Lily tried to, so Harry said. The voice chuckled.

“Well, you certainly have passionate views; do you not, Hermione.”

Stop saying my given name: “Of course,” she sighed. The fight was starting leave her. Happened every time he spoke.

“That is what I commend so highly about you, Hermione. Passion, dedication, the need to see things through no matter what the consequences. Hermione, I would welcome you to the fold with open arms, give you a strong powerful husband. You could be my left-hand woman.” Sinister. The Latin word for left. It most certainly would be for her to bare her arm to his wand and receive the Mark. “You have the makings of a great Witch,” his hand was on her back as if he was physically attached to her. “Please, consider your role amongst our ranks?”

It was then that something snapped. Then that Hermione did something incredibly stupid. “You know what everyone's _bête noir_ is?” she smiled. “It was probably yours at one point.”

“I am everyone's _bête noir_ , Hermione, I _create_ fear.”

“I will tell you the basic fear of _everyone_ in the world – no, in fact, I will demonstrate it?” she was tired, his voice drained her but she had to stand defiantly, it was the least she could do for her Grandmother. “Nothing like a bit of practice to go with theory,” Exhausted. Some strange adrenaline was pushing her forward. Making her do what she was about to do.

Suddenly, Hermione kicked off her Reeboks. “£60,” she sighed. “For when I passed my exams last year,” then she rushed off her socks. “£2, not expensive but bought by my grandmother when I helped a disabled muggle across the street. It was all she had in cash, she did not trust modern technology.” Goggle eyed, the men caught on straight away as they followed her fingers down her coat as she popped each button free. “Debenhams, £100 for my birthday,” here she lazily discarded it to the floor. The voice kept silent as his red eyes glowed. If Hermione saw the look in anyone else's eyes the barely concealed lust would have stopped her. Some of them were licking their lips. All felt the charge in the air as this delightful little know all was doing a strip tease in front of them. Without even being cursed! If she had known how one woman in the crowd felt it might have made her reconsider. However, Hermione's fingers had already curled around her cream cabled sweater. Slowly, she pulled her jumper over her head. “£30 for returning home alive from the Ministry. My parents were _proud_ of me being able to defend myself. My other Grandmother told me to give any bastard I came across, hell!” Now, she risked looking at Draco. Was Narcissa about to step forward. The dark burgundy fitted blouse strained against her smooth curves and pert breasts.

Steadily, she untied the attached scarf used for modesty, as everyone found out. For once the knot was undone, she revealed the v line pointing down toward to her tease of cleavage. The blouse was joined by fake pearl buttons standing proudly against her stomach. Aligning her body to a butterfly's symmetry. Leaning over would reveal succulent cleavage that would make Dracula blush. Death Eaters with less control than others started to physically salivate. One in particular drooled as Hermione, in an unwittingly saucy manner, tossed her hair aside revealing her beautiful glowing jugular. Quickly; she untucked her blouse out of her mulberry corded jeans. Gently undoing the buttons, gazing still at Draco. _Look at me_ , the silent challenge was almost as loud as if she shouted. Sternly, she gazed on the young Lord of the Manor. Concentrating on his perfect if brow beaten profile. “Silk, from House of Fraser,” she sighed, “£40, I saved up and treated myself,” she said pulling it down her arms revealing the toned body everybody was promised. Did her eyes deceive her or did Lucius arch an eyebrow in appreciation. Nimble fingers made quick work of undoing her trousers as she defiantly slipped them down almost taking the panties with them, and stepped out of the scrunched up material, kicking them away with her bare foot.

Yes, she definitely saw Narcissa about to move her head in a shake, almost as if she were telling Hermione to stop. What did Narcissa Malfoy care about her dignity? Draco dared to turn his head and saw the insufferable know-it-all in an entirely different way. Reaching around her back she fiddled with the clasp of the bra – green and silver, the Death Eater's noted with relish: “Local boutique – fitted for me –,” Hermione sighed, “silver lace and stitching in silver heart motifs with a lovely green background: the set cost £45. Again, a present from my mother to welcome me into the world of woman hood on my 18th birthday.”

18? Why did Narcissa lower her head onto her fingers massaging her head as if she were hoping that Hermione would not say her age. Completely naked, Hermione reached her hands around the back of her head and finally loosed her unruly locks from it's plain black scrunchy. “This,” she hissed. “Is everyone's basest fear, to be standing in a room full of people who loathe you and you are absolutely naked.”

“Oh, my dear,” the sibilance purred adding an extra dimension of dark, unwanted seduction, of her mind: “You are, indeed, a Lioness, are you not?” the voice hissed. That sussuration calmed her but not enough to make her forget about herself. “I may not be interested in the intricacies of the feminine form in its most primal state so I shall defer to Lucius: a man who has _always_ had a good eye for the ladies,” if Hermione continued to think of this being as a voice it would go well for her. “Lucius,” the voice was almost beside her now and not in front of her, standing so close yet she felt no warm breathe on her skin, “is she, or is she not, a true form of feminine excellence?”

“I would not expect otherwise of Miss Hermione Granger, My Lord. Excellence radiates from her very core.”

Hermione's jaw would dislocate from shock if this was to carry on. No, he is lying. For what purpose she had no idea but he _was_ lying. This was not how it was supposed to go. Suddenly, her arm was being held up: “Your wand is stuck to your skin?” it asked.

“I did not want to be _utterly_ naked,” I do not want to be naked again. No longer could she deny it though, as she felt a swish of black fabric. The Dark Lord's robe... The voice was a being. The being was most certainly Lord Voldemort.

Lord Voldemort glared deeply within her eyes: “If you think by baring your soul in the literal sense, you are going to anger me, you are much mistaken,” the giggle of Bat Woman terrified Hermione more so than having Lord Voldemort clenching his hand around her wrist and looking straight into her wilting profile. “I see you as an interesting challenge and one I intend to win. One I wish to nurture and grow. I can teach you many things, Hermione. I can offer you tomes of such intense intellect and power. I can apprentice you to the most efficient of positions. Most importantly of all,” he smiled. “I can count on your loyalty once you join me,” here he turned her face around with his surprisingly strong digit, “as my daughter.”

What? Daughter? “There are orphaned pure bloods of Slytherin,” she said.

“Yes,” he agreed, “though not ones that encompass characteristics of the three great houses of Hogwarts.”

“Four Great Houses.”

“Hufflepuff,” Voldemort sneered. “The house of jackanapes and idiocy.”

“What is so Slytherin about me, then?” her voice became a growl. Low and primal. What was he thinking? If I were friends more with Justin Finch-Fletchley or Susan Bones, would he think me worthy? Probably not. “I cannot have anything of the serpent about me.”

“I believe in your time you stole, lied, cheated, and – so Draco informs me – cursed a fellow in your year and has found a way to terrify Dolores Umbridge,” seems this woman was despised by all, Hermione sighed, “I would say that is Slytherin,” Lord Voldemort tilted his head to the side. “Did you enjoy time-travelling, my dear?” Cupping her jaw with his entire hand, he smiled: “I believe I can sense arousal in some of my Death Eaters behind me,” he said to her, “you are magnificent in your nakedness, Hermione, embrace your new found freedom of expression.”

This was not the idea! The idea was to repulse the Dark Lord. Make her pay for insolently standing there naked. Not to compliment her on her form. Gods, even the Dark Lord licked his lips as his eyes lowered to her perky breasts. “Bellatrix, Narcissa.”

Silently the two sisters stepped forward. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Lucius urge his wife forward. What was going to happen now?

“Yes, my Lord?” Bellatrix simpered gazing doe eyed at the Dark Lord like he was some sort of poster boy, “we are, as ever, at your service!” she curtsied low.

Narcissa however pursed her lips and gazed at Hermione with something like concern. That was impossible. “My Lord,” Narcissa curtsied but not quite with the level of obeisance that Bellatrix did. “We are, as ever, at your service.”

“Please relocate Hermione Granger to a room, offer her your best hospitality.” He must be crazy! First he offered to practically make her his protégé, now he was making Bat Woman and Ice Queen take her to another room. “Whilst I find someone … _worthy_ … of such a woman amongst such a rabble!”

Already, Hermione heard a few pairs of feet shuffle forward. Vultures! Still, if the Dark Lord asked them to offer her courtesies, that was something. No, Hermione remembered that Harry almost succumbed when the Dark Lord promised to bring his parents back. But why would he want to adopt her as his daughter? That was not her temptation! Ah, the wicked voice said, but tutelage and scholarly ambitions are. He offered her those, all right.

“Can we hurt the dog?” Bellatrix sighed as if the thought turned her on, “My Lord, just a teensy bits, to make her scream?” Bellatrix asked.

“No,” the Dark Lord said. “We must treat that body with respect, Bellatrix. You may be looking at a future friend. Treat her like one.”

The jealous glare Bellatrix gave to Hermione indicated full well what she thought of that. “Now go. Take her somewhere comfortable.”

“My Lord,” Narcissa said, “may she, at least, be allowed to put her garments back on?”

Lord Voldemort swept a cold, lust filled, gaze up and down her body a few times: “Would one cover a beautiful portrait, Narcissa?” with that the Dark Lord whipped his wand out and burnt all her clothes. “Take her upstairs.”

The underwear set was bought two days before she had to Obliviate them and send them to Australia. It was the last time she laughed with her mother. Hugged her truly. That set could, at least, be saved. They were Slytherin's colours. Why? Blankly, Hermione looked at the two most diametrically opposite women one could think of, venturing forth to offer her some form of hospitality. One with claws to scratch her with, the other had eyes to scorn her with.

♣♦♣♦♣♦♣♦

After he received the summons Headmaster Snape wasted no time in getting to the gathering. Dumbledore insisted. The man was dead and he was still making his life a living hell. He entered with the room abuzz of the younger more feral Death Eaters drooling and salivating over something. His ears were fuzzy from the pull of forced Apparition, so he could not quite hear what the fuss and flushed faces were all about. The wine flowed freely now. Something boosted morale. Bellatrix stood angrily against the wall pouting – arms folded across her breasts – tapping her wand against her arm. Shivering as he gazed at her, Severus rolled his eyes and looked around the room trying to search out the more cogent.

Lucius Malfoy was standing, rather uncharacteristically, as far away from the crowd as he possibly could. Severus walked up to the man he still respected – in fact, possibly, even more so since he actually looked penitent. “I thought you were supposed to be supervising the young of Hogwarts,” Lucius sighed. Rolling his head to a little alcove. Severus followed. Once there, Lucius hissed at Severus, almost catching the man off-guard: “How does she do it?”

“Bellatrix mu...”

“Not Bellatrix,” Lucius whispered. Thankfully the bawdy loud talk was covering what the two men were discussing, “Miss Granger.”

What had Miss Granger done? Wait, did that mean... No! Snape felt his heart plummet to his shoes. No, he can't have failed another. Not again. Trying not to allow his feelings show Severus kept his face impassive: “What has the insufferable girl done now?”

“We have to stop him,” Lucius sighed making sure he was barely moving his lips. Some people could lip read. Severus could not believe his ears. What had happened this evening? “I am no longer sure, Severus,” Lucius continued. “After the many tortures Bellatrix put her through.”

That bitch, Severus snarled inwardly. If she has turned Miss Granger or worse... _her_ son … into a quivering mass of uselessness, he may turn his wand on her and damn the consequences. “What happened, Lucius?”

“My wife is with her.”

That provided Severus with touch of hope: “Lucius, what happened?”

“Oh Schnape!” a drunk Rodolphus hung an arm limply over the man's shoulder: “You shoulda been 'ere. It were priceless!”

Good job Lucius was careful with his phrasing. “What _was_ priceless?” corrected Snape as he turned sharply to his... colleague? Definitely not a friend. Right now, he'd have to concede that James Potter was more of a friend than this uncouth bastard. Rodolphus took a long swig of expensive wine from the bottle: “Either you tell me or I will read your dimwitted mind!”

“Alright, alright,” Rodolphus drawled in his semi-drunken tone. “Ya know that Mudblood that Potter hangs about wiv. Oh, course ya do,” all the breeding went down the drain when Rodolphus was off his skull on Kells Starlight! “Well, it were so good. She were talkin to our Lord,” the man scrunched Snape's shoulder close to him and looked in Snape's serious eyes, normally enough to sober Hagrid but not this nitwit: “Our Lord, righ' and wow. Blow my eyes outta me head if she don't start strippin!”

Severus exchanged a look to Lucius who looked at his feet: “Indeed, amusing diversion so that her misguided friends could escape.”

“Nah, I tooks her pers'nly here.”

Deep down inside Snape's insides twisted with the urge to vomit and kill her himself. What possessed her? “Was she cursed to?” what other explanation rather than the silent _Imperius_ curse.

“Nah, righ' genuine it was,” Rodolphus slugged down the most intrinsic wine known to Wizard kind and he was drinking it like it was tap water, “all of a sudden she goes on and on about this Beet Noor nonsense.”

“ _Bête noir_ ,” hissed Snape. Oh, she didn't. “Why?”

“Coz, well, coz she saw me sparklin eyes din' she!”

Disgusting, Snape scowled. Absolutely disgusting. “What was our Lord's response?”

“He was right tun on e were.” A genteel cough emanated from Lucius as if warning his brother in law to shut up, the fool was so drunk and so enjoyed his story that he carried on: “He wan's 'er to... to... be oneovus,” Rodolphus hiccoughed, “like ya know. Takin a Mark.”

Blood froze in the centre of Snape's heart. “She declined, obviously.”

“For now,” Rodolphus glared at his wife, “Gods I 'ope I gets her. She's 'ot, fer a mudblood! My bloods 'ot fer her!” Rodolphus winked as he lewdly cupped his crotch.

If anyone was going to have Miss Hermione Granger, it would be Severus Snape, as a pretence to use her body ill but really to get her the hell out of here along with her idiot friends and get them back doing what they were supposed to be doing. “I am sure she enjoyed making a spectacle of herself.”

“You shoulda seen Luci's eyes, near bulged out of their sockets. I coulda strangled Cissa,” the look that Rodolphus missed but Snape saw was the first sign of devotion in Lucius eyes towards his wife. “She went and said that the Mudblood shoulda been able to put her clothes back on but wise and wonnerful Lord, well, he said it would be like coverin a good work of art!”

“It was an abomination!” snorted Bellatrix finally voicing her views. “The ugly little mouse will pay for doing what she did.”

Severus clenched hold the fabric inside his pocket, managing to dig his nails into his skin. If he were fortunate to be her peer rather than her Professor; Hermione would have been a friend of his. Definitely not ugly, certainly not a mouse. “All I have heard,” he gritted his teeth: Why, that was something he never thought he'd see. Lucius directing a look of malice towards Bella's way. “Is that she was trying not to become a Death Eater – she was trying to persuade the Dark Lord otherwise.”

“I remember you have a fetish for Mudbloods, Severus,” sniggered Bella in reply. “Imagine the look on Scar Head's face when he finds _that_ out!”

Gaping his mouth wide open Lucius was sickened by her. Truly and utterly sickened. Now he understood. The fragile heart in him began to beat as he saw the pain flicker in Severus' eyes. In the past he would have joined in the teasing. Wandless, there was not much he could do to hurt Bellatrix but he could cut in: “From my understanding on the situation, Bellatrix,” he said, “Miss Evans was a particularly clever Witch,” shocked by his quiet thoughtful tone, both dark haired Warlocks glanced at the disgraced blond. “Severus is fuelled more by a pure mind,” just as I should have encouraged Draco to be. The way she spoke up for his son. _He is a human being, he has_ _ **worth**_ _!_ After all his son put her through at school. _He has_ _ **worth**_! The words rang around Lucius mind like a mantra giving him hope. _He has_ _ **worth**_! Well, Lucius sighed, so do you my dear and I am incapacitated to help you and your friends. Gods what a foolish man I have been. Lucius sighed: “than by pure blood.”

The doors opened and Narcissa swept in. Fixing her eyes on her husband next to Severus, Rodolphus and a petulant Bellatrix. Walking up to them she tried to smile and put the Ice Queen act back on but there was no way she would return to that person ever again. Hating her to the very fibre of her being! Gently, she took Lucius hand and swept him away from the company: “H-how is she?” he stuttered.

“Scared.”

“Where is she?”

“In your second bedroom,” Narcissa whispered. “Gods, Lucius, she told me things up there,” Narcissa sighed resting her head on her husband's strong shoulder. “She told me that I was beautiful,” here Narcissa wiped a tear from her eye, “all that I have done, she tells me how lucky you are to have me as a wife,” now he knew the young woman had taste. “She told me something else too.”

“Y-yes,” Lucius knew his wife must have been enthralled by Hermione and the playful Cissa of old was back for a short time: “what did she say?”

“You reminded her of a famous muggle that she had a crush on before the letter.”

“Normally, I would sneer at that,” Lucius squeezed his wife's hand. “Now I find it complimentary,” indeed he had no idea she had a crush on him. “Did you cover her up?”

“With your least worn cloak, she is so small, Lucius.”

“You cannot care for her, Narcissa.”

As Narcissa was about to answer: I'll damn well care for whom I want to! the doors opened again – a toady held it with the flat of his hand as the Dark Lord swept through: “Severus and Lucius, I wish you to follow me.”

“Whatever it takes, Lucius,” Severus whispered as he fell in step with his friend, “whatever it takes.”

♣♦♣♦♣♦♣♦

The Dark Lord slithered around what used to be Lucius' study. Gliding in his heavy black robe that seemed to flow and hiss as he moved. Nagini reared her head and he petted his favourite snake: “Hermione is not as silly as you made out, Severus,” he said calmly, “neither is she as ugly as you made out, Lucius.” Both men knew remaining quiet would be the best option: “You see, I am torn between punishing Lucius for failing me in the Department of Mysteries,” here he steepled his fingers: “and rewarding Severus for murdering my old foe.” Impassively, they stared ahead. Not trusting themselves to even twitch: “I wish to initiate her into our ranks,” the Dark Lord said. _I was hoping he was not serious_ , Lucius thought. “I meant every word I said in that room, Lucius,” as he read the flicker in the blond's eyes. “You see, Lucius, your passionate hatred of all things Muggle means you may turn her away but you can be silver tongued when you want to be...”

“My wife...”

“Your wife and child will be safe on your success if she decides upon yourself.” Lucius blanched: “I will leave it to her and will not punish you for not being able to seduce her.” Keep calm, Lucius. Now the Dark Lord turned towards Severus: “I know I promised not to hurt your last love, Severus,” the Dark Lord made something so beautiful sound so perverted. “There is a woman much like her and you have proved your loyalty much more than you are aware, at one time I was afraid that you had slipped away from the cause but I am indebted to you.”

“My Lord,” was all Severus could trust himself to think and say.

“So, I thought I could send both of you to her. Hermione trusts you, Severus, she may listen to you. Lucius, your reputation does have an element of truth.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“The best part about all this,” the Dark Lord sighed, “she did afford me some sort of respect, without me having to make her,” here Severus closed his eyes, “a young woman like her to sparkle amongst the meetings would certainly liven things up.”

“Bellatrix is a problem, My Lord,” Lucius said, “she is not taking kindly to your wishes in this regard.”

The Dark Lord leant forward: “Bellatrix Le Strange is becoming somewhat of a liability.”

Severus and Lucius dared to look at one another: “What is to be done, my Lord?” Severus asked.

“I will leave it to her choosing, however,” the Dark Lord hissed, “I do expect her to be presented to me by the morning with the desire to take the Mark,” Severus scrunched his hands into fists inside the folds of his cloak, “you may go!”

Out of the room the men looked at each other. “I am not going to let her have the Mark, Lucius,” Severus hissed.

“Neither am I,” Lucius sighed. “You should have heard her, Severus. I wanted to slap her face and hug her at the same time.”

Severus understood: “I call that the Granger effect,” his lips turned at the corners.

“The way she refused to let my son be put down. The words she used. I am his father – Severus – and I could not speak, she suffered humiliation at my son's hands and she stood tall, naked and defiant. _He has_ _ **worth**_ , were the words she used. Severus,” Lucius turned around, “I wish she were the Chosen One.”

“I would have more faith in the situation if she was,” Severus said. This was so different, Lucius acted as if he knew what he had been doing.

Narcissa had left the room – hair dishevelled, lipstick smudged and her corset slightly undone to the pale cream of her breasts. One of those thugs had the nerve! “I had to let Dolohov feel me up, Lucius, he was thinking of giving Hermione a taste of Pure Blood as he remembered her in a dress she wore at a Ball. I won't have her defiled by him!”

Unaware they were being followed, all three made it up the stairs where they got to Lucius door, taking his wife's hand in his they smiled at each other. Gently Lucius tapped on the door with the other: “It is me, Hermione,” she said, “can we come in?”

“Y-yes, Mrs Malfoy,” was her reply.

♣♦♣♦♣♦♣♦

All three walked in and found Hermione sitting on the floor as close and curled into a corner of the room as she could. “Why are you sitting there?” Narcissa rushed to Hermione after she cast the sound proofing charms. “Come on, back on the bed.”

“I did not think your husband would appre...” suddenly she found herself being lifted up, in a chivalrous action that reminded Hermione of a Knight in some stupid 50's Hollywood movie.

Hermione did not dare to look into the eyes but the blond hair told her she was in Lucius Malfoy's arms and in a kindly manner. Narcissa was a lucky woman. She was not even thrown on the bed but lowered methodically and tenderly. “My wife and I are of one voice in this regard,” he said. “You stopped my son from being hurt, as far as Wizengamot rules goes, I have more to ask your mercy than the other way around.”

“I did nothing except make a fool of myself.”

“You spoke words of hope,” Lucius brushed aside her hair and tilted her chin up. Causing a gasp fall from her lips when she saw, close-up, the state he was in: “no, I do not deserve your sympathy and I most assuredly do not warrant your empathy.”

It took all three to realise that she had shed the cloak and it was seemingly put tidily away. Rolling her eyes Narcissa walked back to the wardrobe and brought it out again and covered her over.

“Why do you keep covering me up?” she asked Narcissa.

“You still distrust me after what we talked about?”

“No, it is just that I do not hold any delusions about myself, I know I can walk the entire world naked and not one man who sees me would care.”

Arching an eyebrow Lucius leaned over: “Rodolphus Le Strange,” he said. Noticing Hermione's eyes turn flint hard he sighed, thank the stars she wanted to live. “Antonin Dolohov,” he said ghosting a bruised finger along her jawline. The look of disgust on her face caused Lucius to smile. A Witch of defining standards. “Stan Shunpike,” he felt her desire to retch: “Me.”

Furrowing her brow Lucius noted her body language change as she quickly glanced at Narcissa: “I do not mind, Hermione,” Narcissa smiled. “Men are men. Married or no they see a naked, attractive, woman and they become little more than a six month cat who realises they can mate!”

“What does, um,” normally she would say the name but now she understood. Now she was not only afraid but terrified. “HE say?”

“I thought fear of a name increases fear in the thing itself, Miss Granger?” Lucius had to quote her idiotic (nearly) 13 year old self.

“I was either incredibly brave or extremely foolish, Mr Malfoy,” she countered back. Two can play at this game.

Huffing impatiently Severus walked the other side. Great, now she felt like kitten cornered by three slavering wolves. “What were you thinking?” he was growling.

“Severus,” Narcissa tried to soothe him, “she is not your pupil any more. She has my undying respect treat her as you would me.”

Pinching his fingertips around Hermione's wrist Severus gazed deeply into her eyes: “I was not thinking,” Hermione said. “I was trying to remind him of my heritage. Are there Mudblood...”

“Don't. You. Ever. EVER! Say that word, you hear!” Snape snarled, pushing his face close to hers.

“You did not mind when Draco called it me!”

“She has a point, Severus,” Lucius turned a little smugly. “Double standards, old boy.”

“All right,” Severus rubbed his face down. “This is what HE has said.”

To Hermione's surprise Narcissa sat next to her and hugged her close. “You are either to be my punishment,” Lucius sighed.

“Or my reward.”

“Why do I get the impression it's the other way round?” she said.

Lucius smirked as life entered his eyes: “I rather think you underestimate Severus, Hermione, but yes I must admit for myself that you and I could...”

“In front of your wife!”

“No, she would leave the room.”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it!”

“Hermione,” Narcissa sighed, “we do what HE wants – he has left it in your hands.”

“M-my hands?” Hermione stammered. “I-in what way?”

“The Dark Lord,” Snape said, “has decided to make you choose which one of us you would rather … er...”

“Consummate with?”

“Delicately put, Miss Granger,” Severus said. “It is nice to see that Mr Weasley has not completely corrupted your language.”

“I do not like swearing,” Hermione said. “It's coarse.”

“There are other terms.”

“All right well,” Hermione rolled back her head trying bite back the tears stinging her eyes and keeping her anger in check. “I happen to know Prof... Headmaster Snape would rather throttle me than sleep with me not to mention that he was my teacher. A little dubious to say the least,” then she glanced at Narcissa: “YOUR Lord,” she sighed, “does not understand that marriage is a bond _of_ life _for_ life. That you two are devoted to each other. I cannot even do it for one cold coupling that means nothing. In fact this whole situation is perverted. Just get Bellatrix to torture me. THAT makes...” before she finished the door slammed open and shut.

“WHAT THE HELL, GRANGER!” Draco yelled.

“Now my life's complete.”

“Dark sarcasm, Hermione?” Lucius smirked. Who would have thought he would have found her desirable. Severus turned and saw the light in his friends eyes change. Over my dead body, Lucius. “I like it.”

“WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?”

“If I knew the answer to that question, Draco,” Hermione snapped, “I would write a book on it entitled: How To Seduce Death Eaters In One Easy Step! Found in the Restricted Section and the Adult Shelves in Flourish and Blotts.”

“You should not have seen that section of the store until you were of age,” Lucius said furrowing his brow.

“I saw it on my fourth visit to the store.”

“You would have been 14 then,” Narcissa said.

“15,” Draco said unthinkingly.

“How do you know?”

“I saw you receive presents, Granger.”

“Yes, though how would you still have known?”

Rolling his eyes Draco squeezed between his mother and father and glowered: “Because you received your cards and presents on September 19th which means you missed out on being the year _above_ me.”

“20 points to Slytherin!” Hermione sighed. “I'm serious about that, Headmaster. I trust I can still hand out points?”

“So that makes you...” Lucius furrowed his brow...

“I was of age in the Fifth year of school.”

“Damn!” Draco exclaimed.

“Wanted a bit of dirt skirt, did you?” Hermione sneered.

“Well, Severus, if I had not have glimpsed Hermione's parents I could have sworn she...” at the mention of her parents Hermione crumbled into tears. The only person who knew why was Narcissa. To Draco's surprise his mother kissed the top of Hermione's head. “... would have been your daughter.”

“So how are we going to get this settled?” Hermione said wiping the tears away.

“We have to find a solution,” Narcissa sighed. “You told me about that fumble with the muggle before your Sixth year, you must know some things...” Blushing Hermione could not look in anyone's eyes. “Don't you?”

“Before my Sixth year,” she muttered. Lowering her eyes.

Severus eyes widened and left the bed wanting to throw up. It took a while for Lucius but his reaction was one of visible shock. Draco and Narcissa still thought she meant before her sixth year at Hogwarts: “What happened to the muggle?” Severus growled quietly.

“Why are you saying it like that?” Draco asked. “Even I know that's all...”

“She was a child, Draco, before her SIXTH birthday.”

“This is getting worse,” Hermione mumbled.

“You have not answered my question,” Snape turned around. “This is the only _detailed_ answer I will ever require from you.”

“I don't know,” Hermione replied. “I really do not know. It was a blur. One minute I was playing in the park. Just feet away from my parents who were watching me. Then I decided, being the inquisitive character that I always was, to find out what was behind some bushes that were rustling,” grinding his teeth Snape waited for the rest story: “a man walked up to me: 'Come on little girl. There is something special behind those bushes. Wanna see?' Probably the only time in my life I should have remembered the _golden_ rule,” Hermione huddled up her knees to her chin. “He then... he then... then...”

“Gods, does Potter know?” Draco asked.

“How can I tell him? Harry's suffered at the hands of both Wizards and Muggles,” she sighed. “How can I disillusion Arthur. If I told Molly she'd go spare and there is the fact that I had the courage; when I realised what he wanted me to do, to run. But I was scared to scream. No, I never told Black or Lupin, I most definitely would not have told McGonagall and if anyone tells them I can easily charm the word SNITCH again.” Hanging her head down she moaned: “Why was I born... no, in fact, why didn't I let myself drown in the swimming pool at 8?”

“Never say that either,” Snape muttered. “You have achieved many wonderful things in your life.”

“I do not want sympathy or empathy,” she sighed, “I just want to get out of here with my friends and without the Mark,” then she looked down, her pretty eyelashes splayed on the top of her cheek, “no, I cannot ask you to do that, the Dark Lord would kill someone,” gazing up directly at Draco, “and I think I know who.”

Following her gaze Lucius saw it resting on his son: “You even think like him,” he said sadly. “He's right, you would be an asset, but we're not going to let that happen.”

“I am surprised you are not gloating, Mr Malfoy.”

“Lucius,” he said. “Right now, Hermione, there is nothing for me to gloat about. You are not gloating over my downfall?”

“No, I was not bought up to gloat.”

“What are we going to do, Lucius?” Narcissa asked scrunching a quietly defiant, red eyed, Hermione into her arms, “we have to think of something.”

“There is no choice,” Hermione sniffled. “Those cunning Slytherin's use any means to achieve their ends,” she looked at Draco and the shared memory between them on their first day, “I am a means to an end. I cannot prostitute myself to you, Mr Malfoy,” she gazed at Narcissa, “you have a wonderful wife and you should treasure her more so than all that gold in your vault.”

Lucius looked a tiny bit disappointed. “Headmaster Snape?” her voice sounded small. “We have to give HIM an answer,” he walked up to the bed and sat down: “I will present you as my choice.”

“What of the Mark, how are we going to get out...”

“I will accept it, Draco,” Hermione tilted her chin up.

A chorus of NO! Sweetheart! Are you bloody mad? Assaulted her ears and she winced with all of them. “I will _accept_ the MARK,” she sighed, “I will take forward my own scar in this war. The amount of times I have watched Harry writhe, sweat and twist in agony because of that scar – the amount of times I have seen Ginny curl herself into a ball because she still hears that voice in her head telling her to do things...”

“You are not going to have the MARK!” Headmaster Snape said in a 'that is final' voice.

“I will die then and there goes Harry Potter's only logical mind!” Hermione retorted. “I have fallen through Devils Snare, been beaten by oversized Wizards Chess pieces, Petrified, Dementors, Werewolves, escaped convicts, almost drowned by Mermaids due to that idiotic contest, battled you in the Department of Mysteries, and not to mention last year suffering all of Harry's and Ron's bellyaching about girlfriends, I think I can have a physical semblance that would remind me of what and who I am.”

“The scars on your arm are not enough?” Severus sighed taking her hand in his and Hermione felt a jolt happen between them as she saw the word scrawled on her other arm.

“I did not mean that,” Hermione snatched her arm away. “I meant that I am a Gryffindor. I read all about Harry before we went to school, admittedly you cannot go on much on a person due to a dark accident that happened when they were a baby – you know who I _really_ admired? Who I was striving to be?” here she fixed her gaze completely on Severus, “I wanted to feel that if L-!” she stuttered, “if Lily and I... that we would have...”

“Been friends?” Severus whispered. Hermione nodded. “She would not have let you out of her sight, and,” he mouth twisted in irony: “I would not have either!”

“Then it is settled,” Hermione said. “I will bond myself to you and you can teach me how to be subtle.”

“What of Potter?” Severus asked. “How would he feel if he...”

“I can handle Harry,” Hermione sighed. “I have done since we became friends,” she sniffed and laughed bitterly. “I remember once I told Harry and Ron that I was going to go to bed before they came up with another clever idea to get us all killed or worse, expelled... laughable, isn't it. At 12 I would rather have died than be expelled!”

“No, you would have been stuck in some awful plastic muggle school and been tortured for your untaught gifts,” Severus sighed, “that is where Salazar had it wrong.”

“No,” Hermione sighed, “I understand his views at the time,” she said. “Muggles were torturing Wizards and Witches and he thought Muggleborns were spies and informants, I understand the distrust.”

Lucius wished she would stop being so reasonable. “Yes,” Narcissa said rearranging Hermione's hair so that it framed her face, “but it need not have perpetuated to this level.”

“All magical families have their share of Muggles, Muggleborns and what not,” Lucius said taking her hand. “we just do not wish to admit it.”

“ _Droit de Seigneur_?” Hermione winked. “Do not worry – I am not even pure English.”

“You are not?” Narcissa gasped.

“My grandmother – mother's mother,” she said, “was French. She was part of...” she remembered with whom she was talking to, “any way, her husband was Greek.”

“How did a French Girl and Greek Boy get together?” Narcissa asked. Romantic that she was.

“A war,” Hermione sighed, “much like this one; led by a despot who thought the be all and end all was an Aryan idyll,” her bitter laugh sounded again, “rather ironic.”

“What is?” Draco saw nothing to laugh about.

“You all would have been snapped up and used as the picture postcard example of what Purity should look like, and the Weasley's would be held as an example as to what Purity should be doing.”

“That is?” Lucius asked.

Tilting her head Hermione worried her lower lip: “To be baby making machines,” she finally said, “that mad Muggle even rewarded women medals the more sons she had – towards the end, it became law for girls as young as 14 to get pregnant.”

“Don't give him ideas,” Snape snarled, “and I know to whom you are referring,” with a scowl he had almost forgotten, “but what were your grandparents...”

“My French Grandmother was working for the Resistance Group to hold back hostile Germans. At the age of 20 she shot down 14 men in almost quick succession: She spied, poisoned, and seduced information out of her unsuspecting victims.”

Here Draco blanched. It seemed she came from some scary people. Good grief, he sighed, that should have got her into Slytherin alone: “My Grandfather's country was occupied by the very same hostile forces – he was shipped off to various specific places for torture because he refused to succumb, ended up in France, where my grandmother found him almost lifeless. She kissed him and never looked back.”

“That is beautiful,” Narcissa sighed. “You speak to your grandmother?”

“Oh yes,” Hermione said smiling, “some of my best ideas are inspired by her.”

“Taking the Mark is not one of your best ideas.”

“Saving several lives for one sacrifice is much better than to be led like a lamb to the slaughter, _dear_!” she said sarcastically to Snape. “So, as I have made up my mind, shall we get this over with?”

“No,” Narcissa said. “We will leave you alone with Severus making sure the enchantments are kept in place where you two can work things out. If HE asks,” she glanced at her husband, “we will say that you are being particularly difficult and Severus is breaking you in.”

“I would have to try and look sufficiently penitent I suppose,” Hermione sighed. “Grandmother said that the best attack is to play the enemy at their own game. When there was no other recourse,” she glanced at Lucius, “fight dirty!”

“No doubt you can, Hermione,” Lucius said the name with such ease and Hermione almost swooned at the sight of his eyes and smile as he rolled his tongue over his lips saying it, “I feel I may have underestimated you.”

“Keep friends close, enemies closer?”

“If you were running for the Minister of Magic you can count on my vote.”

“Why would I want that job?” she said with a smirk, “it is a bit demeaning for me – I would not fancy sitting behind a desk being coldly political and forget that I am human as all who behold that desk seem to do.”

The blond chuckled: “I envy you, Severus,” he turned to Headmaster Snape. “This one definitely is a strange mixture of Snake and Lion.”

“What are Griffins?” Hermione said so sweetly it made Lucius nod his head to her, “Are they not consisting of Part Eagle, Part Lion and Part Snake?”

“Indeed they are, as HE said,” here Lucius leaned over and pressed his lips close to hers. Involuntarily, Hermione opened her mouth wider as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. Buzzing, Hermione moaned as Lucius pressed and massaged her lips before removing his tongue from her mouth and withdrew. The stubble playing against her skin exhilarated her then she remembered he did so in front of Narcissa but she did not seem to mind. Panting slightly, Lucius stroked down the side of her face: “You are equal parts of the Three Great Houses.”

“Four!” Hermione arched an eyebrow.

“Four,” he conceded. Draco left the moment he saw his father kiss Hermione. Narcissa finally let go of Hermione and squeezed her hand. Leaning in she whispered: 'See, he would have pleasured you.' Then took her leave. “I could help, Severus...” Lucius said urbanely. “Perhaps give you some tips?”

“Get out!” he snarled. The sooner he could knock some sense into this wilful, young, glorious woman whom he once tolerated with barely concealed sarcasm just short months before, the better.

“Is that a touch of jealousy, old boy?”

“Mr Malfoy, the situation does not warrant flippancy or flirting,” Hermione said.

“Quite right,” he sighed before leaving.

Once Severus and Hermione were left on their own he sat on the bed with a deep sigh. The countenance fell. It was only now she noticed how haggard he truly was. Tired. Agonised. Tortured. “Well,” he said turning to her in such a resigned voice that was free of his sneer. Contempt and loathing completely disappeared. Only resignation left. This was Severus Snape. Not a grease git. Not a bat. A beaten, heartbroken, man. “You have not told a single lie in this room,” he took her hand in his. “Did you really have a crush on me at one time?”

Crap, she forgot he could perform Legilimency on her. Ah well. “You saved me from a Werewolf, of course that does things to a girl,” she whispered as she smiled. Her body was still a little tense. “You tirelessly brewed that potion to wake up the Heirs enemies from our catatonic state,” she allowed her fingers to entwine in his. “Got word to the Order to stop us from being murdered...” she sat up and swung her legs around and made sure she was flush against his body and rested her head on his shoulder: “It must have burned your heart to have had to utter that curse on Dumbledore but you had to. Somehow,” she sniffed, “I never hated you as much as you hated me, you know.”

“Foolish girl,” he sighed. “I did not want to hate you,” he smiled wryly. “May I remind you,” his other hand leaned over to stroke the side of her neck causing her to shiver slightly in pleasure: “The Mark is more than a tattoo you know.”

“I know.”

“Not to be taken lightly.”

“I understand.”

“I suppose you are determined to do this?”

“Would Narcissa fry you alive if you let me have the Mark?”

“Knowing her she is probably berating husband and son for lying to her about you, whilst also sizing you up as a future wife for Draco.”

“If I am bonded to you that would be difficult.”

“What lesson have you learned about Slytherins?”

“They are more twisted than a drunken boa constrictor on a pub crawl.”

To her surprise Snape laughed, genuinely laughed! “You do realise what we would be expected to do, once we're bonded?”

“Consummate the nuptials,” Hermione sighed pressing her lips to his cheek. “I know.”

“Insufferable know-it-all,” he whispered tenderly as he tilted her chin up. “Have any of your boyfriends...”

“No, you were there when I said I have not done anything like that.”

“Not even in an alcove?”

“When you are busy trying to keep Harry and Ron in order there is not much time for fumbles in the secret shadowy corners of Hogwarts, Sir.”

“He will expect news of a fruitage of our Union within a matter of weeks.”

With a gentle sob Hermione did not say that she had already worked that out. “I do have some form of a plan going.”

“Go on?” Severus arched his eyebrow and looked into her quite lovely cinnamon eyes, “you have beautiful eyes, Hermione.”

He said her name? He SAID HER NAME! Hermione could have flipped with joy if it were not said in such dire circumstances: “Um, thank you,” she blushed, “I like your hands,” she found herself blabbing. Shaking her head and with a slight cough, Hermione tried to get back on track: “Besides the point,” she licked her lips, unbeknownst to her Severus was watching every slight inflection of muscle in her face. “You have your revenge to think of still, do you not?”

“You mean on the Marauders?”

“I _mean_ on the betrayal of Lily Potter,” he visibly winced. “I am not stupid, Sir, I looked at your book. The writing was too female,” she gazed into his face, “you must have loved her very much.”

“Losing her was the day I died, and I lost her long before she was murdered,” he decided now honesty was the best policy. “Potter cannot know,” he said, “it is not _time_ for him to know. He wouldn't understand for one.”

“He mentioned once that his Aunt scoffed about her sister always bringing THAT boy home,” her fingers clutched hold of his hand tightly, “I assumed, as we all did, that it was James she was talking about but it was...”

“Petunia Evans was a right dunderhead then and, from what I gather, even more so pigheaded now.”

“There is no love lost between her and Harry at the moment. She hated him as much as you did.”

“Did you know she tried to get into Hogwarts?”

Hermione glanced up, resting her chin on his shoulder, trying to read his expression: “I won't tell Harry,” she said. “You are right, he is not ready yet, he still thinks you were out to kill him from day one.”

“I cannot let harm befall her son, I am tired from playing piggy in the middle – all I wanted from life was Lily – what is the point of me?”

“Do you think Lily would let you believe that of yourself?” Hermione sat up and let the cloak fall revealing how perfect her breasts were. He was about to cover her up but she refused as she stood up in her naked glory as the silk slipped off her body as it wrapped around her curves. Severus took in a gasp.

“Get some clothes on!”

“No,” she said placing her hands on Severus shoulders, “I am not going to deny the bravest man I would ever know this – if Lucius Malfoy can look, so can you,” with that she moved his chin up and gazed steadily into his eyes as he took in her all. “Damn it all, Severus,” she now felt brave enough to say his first name. “Harry and Ron are not going to find out and if they do, so what?”

“They will kill me?”

“They won't,” she growled, every inch the young Lioness, “I won't let them and Ron knows I can batter him with canaries if I so desired.”

Severus chuckled as his eyes hooded over with admiration and lust: “Well,” he murmured, “what of my revenge then?”

“Pettigrew?”

At this she felt Severus hands wander up and down her hips. Sending quivers of delight through her. “I'm listening,” he whispered against her belly button that was teasing him to kiss it.

“He has a life debt to Harry, does he not?”

“I believe he does.”

Now Hermione whimpered as his rough but warm hands spread along her mound as if stretching the skin taut for his delicious lips. “Remind him,” she sighed, “my cat tried to kill him.”

“If I had have known I would have awarded Gryffindor the house cup purely on your good taste in pets,” his voice became husky as he pressed his lips right over the belly button again flicking his tongue in and around it's sweet little wrinkled crevice, “you know,” he wrapped his hands around her buttocks, “I think I may have to reappraise my opinion of you, _dear,_ ” he smiled as he slowly lowered her into his lap. “I did not realise you had this inner streak of viciousness.”

“You did know it was I who had cursed Marietta Edgecombe with the word SNITCH, did you not?”

Severus gazed up into her eyes: “When I entered this room I saw a frightened child,” he raised his hand to caress her jaw with his knuckles, “now I do, indeed, see a powerful young Witch,” Hermione closed her eyes as his lips kissed all the way around her naval and hips murmuring with delight, “and one I am proud to have taught.”

“Taut?” she giggled. “Now,” she cheekily straddled his waist, he was shocked at her behaviour considering she was a virgin and he was once her teacher. A jolt of electricity shot throughout his core as her knees bent pressing against his thighs and dotted hot light feathery kisses over his lips and jaw, “where is this bewitching of the mind and ensnaring the senses you promised me?” she panted grinding her hips against his. Feeling he was not entirely opposed to her attentions. He, in turn, could feel how sore and throbbing she was becoming. Her wet desire leaked onto his trousers!

Severus eyes went wide as saucers as she appropriated his speech on their first lesson for her own artless seduction: “Maybe we could consummate now – if we go down there a little red faced and comfortable with each other, HE would not find any way to change his mind.” Curling his fingers around her jaw and cupping her face in one hand. “Also because I am sporting an erection even my voluminous robes could not cover and I cannot face a school filled with children with that on display.”

Chuckling, Hermione pressed her body tight against his: “Even if I am married to you in name only and the rest of the world would not know,” she said as languidly tracing his jaw with her slight but wonderfully inquisitive fingers: “I still consider it an honour.”

“We still have to find a way to stop your skin being marred, Hermione,” he lifted her arm and kissed her wrist, “I won't have you being whisked at his beck and call when Po... Harry, needs you most.”

They made love that night. Not some fumble amongst the sheets. But considerate, gentle love that caused Hermione to sing and sigh with joy. “Severus,” she whimpered with each touch. “Merlins balls, I could get used to this!” as he was sliding in and out of her now pulsing labial tissues.

“ _My_ balls, Hermione,” he grunted. “Merlin be damned! You can't fail one thing can you!”

The next morning Narcissa entered and saw them wrapped in a tangle of naked limbs with satisfied smirks on their faces. It was a delightful scene for her to behold considering her own uncomfortable nights rest. Coughing to alert her presence they woke up a little shamefacedly but Narcissa did not look shocked. In fact, she was slightly aroused herself by the sight, but she turned her back whilst Severus cleaned them up with simple spells, charmed his robes back on his body and walked out of the room.

Half-an-hour later. Hermione was presented to the Dark Lord in one of Narcissa's old but beautiful robes in Slytherin's colours, whereupon he bound their hands together. “Headmaster and Mrs Snape,” his voice sighed with such boredom, “I know pronounce you bonded.”

They chastely kissed on the lips before the Dark Lord took her arm – the one with Mudblood etched on for life: “I shall hide this abomination that my misguided but devoted follower scratched into you with a symbol of Power: Kneel!” Hermione did and bowed her head. She felt a touch of wood on her flesh and pain. Unbearable agony! But she endured: Give the bastards, hell. Never show fear. “Now, you are one of us!” Voldemort yelled joyously holding her arm out for all to see.

That night Hermione, Ron and Harry escaped with Pettigrews help. Though, Hermione knew the real reason he did what he did. A glamour was put on her robes turning them into the clothes she wore the day they were taken so Ron and Harry would not suspect a thing.

When Hermione was captured she was still a child. She left the Manor a woman. Snape's Woman!

♣♦♣♦♣♦♣♦

Whilst Severus and Hermione were enjoying their coupling the Malfoy's slipped back in the revels. The Dark Lord beckoned Narcissa forward. She knelt down to him: “I presume that Severus is the lucky one?”

“Not quite, My Lord,” Narcissa's eyes stayed to the floor as she had not gained permission to stand up, “she is being somewhat recalcitrant – as is a trait of her House and Kind, Severus is the one who knows her weaknesses more than anyone,” it was killing her to say these things. In a short while, Hermione had managed to do what her own sister Andromeda could not. Hermione had changed her and she felt re-born and alive! “He is breaking her into the idea though,” the Dark Lord's fingertip tilted her head up: “but she has chosen him for her husband.”

“If anyone can seduce that mind of hers,” the Dark Lord hissed, “Severus is the one to do so.” Then he lifted Narcissa up with his finger alone, “I just hope he leaves some of her mind spare,” he sighed earning a snigger from Bellatrix. “Now, what was your son doing, for I expressly forbade him to go anywhere.”

This was it, Lucius gripped onto Draco's shoulder ready to fling himself in the path of any curse this accursed being threw Draco's way. “He was trying to find intelligence on whether her and the Weasley boy were serious as he did not wish for Severus to be cuckolded later down the line,” Narcissa lied smoothly. Saving both her son and her husband.

“Then I shall spare him this once,” the Dark Lord sighed, “we shall all retire for a while,” he looked at Lucius. “I suppose it is true,” Lucius looked at the face he once worshipped and now loathed, “Witches hate a Wandless Wizard, do they not, Lucius?” he smirked as he slithered out of the room.

All the Death Eaters went to their various rooms except for Narcissa and Lucius. They slumped into a sofa taking each other's hand. When all was still in the house Lucius burst into tears. Cradled by his wife against her bosom he clung onto her like she was his only reason for breathing right now. Narcissa stroked aside his hair hushing him still.

“I thought they were the evil ones,” he sniffled against her breast, “I was wrong, oh Cissa, what are we going to do for them all?”

“I don't know, Severus is devious and there is more to Hermione than meets the eye, I should imagine they are working something out right now.”

“I wish we nev...”

“Shh shh shh,” Narcissa whispered, soothing her husband to sleep against her own silently sobbing body. “Leave it to those two upstairs,” she pressed her lips to Lucius temple. “Try and sleep, darling, you need to have as much rest as you possibly can.”

They did sleep against each other's bodies on the couch, clutching onto each other, taking small comfort in the fact that Harry Potter's best friend was Hermione Granger.

♣♦♣♦♣♦♣♦

After the shock of the Dark Lord no longer being in existence subsided, Harry sunk with despair, it was done. No more scar. No more torment. Just as he had done so with his friends all watching. Sobbing over the losses. The waste of life. As he looked up filled with relief and shock. His father's generation all but wiped out. For what? A megalomaniac with outmoded ideas far above his station. His friends surrounded him, enveloped him in hugs, of which he clutched onto.

They steadied him on his feet and Hermione stroked his hair back only for her to feel a warm touch on her back. She turned around to the three blonds. Ron's fingers went to his wand but Hermione glared at him and forced him to reconsider: “Hermione,” he heard Lucius say, “you...” he sighed, “you...” Harry was going to hurt the man if he insulted his friend, “you were magnificent out there!” with that the man engulfed Hermione in his arms and wept over her. “Thank you, Hermione,” he whispered clutching onto her.

“Don't take over, Lucius,” Narcissa smiled as she cut in on her husband's embrace: “Hermione, you have re-awakened this family,” Draco took hold of Hermione's hand. “You helped defeat the most Darkest of Wizards in our history and you...” here Narcissa broke down in sobs. “Come here,” she shuddered against the young Witch: “Don't you ever scare me like that again, you hear?”

“I'm sorry, Hermione,” Draco smiled at her. Everyone watched in awe as the most Supreme of Wizard kind hugged and surrounded the young woman. “Extremely sorry for the death of your husband.”

“HUSBAND?” Ron yelled. “WHO?”

“Selflessly, without a thought for their own hearts, Hermione married Severus Snape to help you all escape from my Manor,” Lucius said. “We have become extremely attached to Hermione and I will not tolerate any more hatred. We have hated enough now we ought to embrace the new. Severus managed to relay messages,” here he took Hermione's arm and rolled a sleeve up: “because of this, THIS is the reason why you won.”

Protectively, Narcissa wrapped an arm around Hermione and glared at the Weasley boy: “She was brave, wonderful, magnificent and an example to us all.”

“But...”

“Leave it, Ron,” Harry sighed, “Hermione, you really took the Dark Mark for me?”

“I do not regret one single thing I did,” she tilted her chin defiantly. “If I can stand naked in front of that snake, you do not scare me, Ron.” Then with Harry she stroked and cupped his cheek. “I was married to Severus because HE ordered I be married. Now,” she said taking Narcissa's hand, “I am off to lay the dead body of the bravest man I ever knew. The one who did so much for all of us with no thought to his own heart.”

“We'll all go,” Harry said with a sad smile. “He was trying to be a father to me. I wish I understood that from the start.”

“Well,” Hermione sighed in her best know-it-all voice, “I _believe_ I tried to tell you that he was a man to be trusted, did I not?”

“You did,” Harry sighed, “I am sorry that I did not listen to you more often either.”

“Come, Hermione,” Narcissa took Hermione away, “you know my husband still likes you – if, in the future...” giggling at the scandalised look on Hermione's face.

“I loved Severus,” Hermione sobbed, “I did.”

“I know,” Narcissa sighed.

Trailing behind Ron was open mouthed that the girl he had kissed was married to a man he hated, and bore the Mark, and was chummy with the Malfoy's. “I guess,” he heard Draco say to Harry, “you did make friends with the right _person_ , after all,” he looked at the back of Hermione's hair: “she defended me, you know, despite all that I said, did and acted – she stood firm and told the Dark Lord that I had worth, I would spend the rest of my life worshipping her.”

Blushing Harry squeezed Draco's shoulder: “You learned things the hard way, Draco,” he sighed. “Your father is right, hatred and incriminations get us no where. It is a new dawn now, and we must weather the day.”

“Friends, Harry?” Draco offered his hand.

With a grin Harry took the hand much to Lucius delight: “Friends, Draco.”

Once they reached the shack, Hermione cried deeply over the fallen body of Severus Snape. Narcissa found a note and handed it to Hermione.

“What does it say?”

“Bloody pig headed, bastard!” Hermione muttered. “I would have been happy!”

“What?” Ron asked.

Clearing her throat Hermione sighed as began to read the note addressed to her. Tears fell from her face as she read splashing the parchment.

“ _Dear Hermione._

_I am sorry for causing you heartache and pain. I did not want you to feel shackled to an old man. You are young, beautiful, and passionately devoted to your cause. I assume we won and that HE is now dead. I wanted to let go. To slip away to die – I could have shored up defences but your face as you realised you would have been bonded to me for life, was something I could not bear._

_I hoped, one day, to be married to have my own children and to pursue my own dreams. Ambitions like those would only have worked with the right Witch by my side. At one time I thought that it would be Lily. Then, during our brief marriage, I hoped for it to be you._

_Too vibrant and too wonderful for me – I was a man yearning for two bright glittering stars and only feeling their light._

_Know this, I loved you. I would have cared deeply for you. Alas, dear, I could not allow your beauty to be sullied by me._

_Yours ever._

_Severus!_ ”

“Fool,” Lucius muttered though affectionately. “You made him the happiest I have ever seen him – he should have been a bloody Gryffindor!”

“Damn right!” Harry sobbed as he tenderly held Hermione in his arms. “Severus Snape,” he whispered over her shoulder: “you were the bravest of us all!”

Then they all carried his body with their wands to the grounds and laid him besides Remus.

“We have a world to rebuild.” Harry said reluctantly.

“I will lend any kind of help I can...” Lucius sighed, “as soon as I buy myself a new Wand. That one has HIS taint on it.”

All Hermione could do was look at the peace residing in her husband's face. “Goodbye, my love,” she whispered.

The Night Beast Slayed!

♣♦♣♦♣♦♣♦

All the names of those of the LIGHT went down in Legend. Four decades after the war the first Muggleborns were allowed into Slytherin. After many stern lectures between Professor Snape's portrait the Bloody Baron and the new Headmaster of Hogwarts: Neville Longbottom. Who turned out to be the most fair, the most just and the most wise of all Headmaster's and he and Professor Snape's Portrait developed an easy rapport over his time.

Whilst evil still creeps nothing was ever as bad as that of Lord Voldemort. Many names lived on long after their deaths. Harry Potter and his wife Ginevra. The Weasley name was never held in derision again. The Malfoy's were still treated as a name to be wary of but never again was a Malfoy evil. Other names too; but two names were the source of respect, fear and pride.

Severus Snape became a NAME. Examples were set by him. Fathers gave their sons the name of Severus in the hope that it would make them intelligent.

In ever more hushed, reverential tones, the name of his wife uttered for decades. Became a name that symbolised, encompassed, and breathed Hogwarts for centuries after. A name no one was scared to say and young Witches aspired to be. The name that made headline news on whatever decision she made. A study wing in the newly built school was named after her at the insistence of her benefactor, (and husband in their old age when their other spouses passed on), Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione Jean Snape-Weasley (Malfoy) became known in the hereafter, simply as: The Woman Who Sacrificed...


End file.
